We are under hurricane warning.

It’s eerily calm outside. It’s an odd thing to know a category 3 hurricane is directly below us.

I watch the weather pages. We have water and food staples and flashlights and candles.

It’s an uneasy wait.

Then storm is forecast to turn east, sparing us from a direct hit.

I know from 18 years of living here that the storm will do what it wants.

The plants and porch furniture are now huddled on the screened back porch. We have the boards ready for the window if things deteriorate.

I’ve harassed my kids in the danger zone into leaving, and I am breathing a sign of relief to know they are safe. All my family is calling around to check on each other, before the power and cell phone losses come.

The news shows video of storm surge already flooding low lying areas, a good 24 hrs before landfall.

I’m grateful for the technology which tracks and predicts the storms.

I hate hurricanes, though. My nonchalance changed after Hurricane Ivan.

I’m nervous. We are prepared.

We wait.